


Anarchist Heart

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:11:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1965009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Voldemort killed Neville and won the war, creating a very different wizarding world. Draco and Harry meet by chance, and have their love tested by pure-blood duty and blood discrimination. A secret relationship fraught with danger will always run into trouble eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anarchist Heart

**Author's Note:**

> **TROPE: AU: Harry’s Parents Live**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: This fest is full of wonderful and talented people, and you all make this a great community to be a part of. I hope you enjoy the story.

It was the 31st of October, 1981, when the wizarding world fell. Of course, it didn’t fall right away, but from that day, it was impossible to prevent. 

Two boys had been born the previous summer, and those two infants were children of a prophecy. One of those boys would have the power to defeat the Dark Lord, and so the Dark Lord set out to kill one of them. 

Albus Dumbledore – the leader of the Light side – believed that Harry Potter would be selected. Harry was a half-blood, much like the Dark Lord himself, and so Dumbledore set about protecting the boy from harm. 

With all the focus on the Potters, the protections surrounding the Longbottom family were not enough, and the Dark Lord struck them in the dead of night. The infant Neville and his parents were killed, and all hope of defeating the Dark Lord died with them. 

Severus Snape, a supposed spy for the Light side, was deeply in love with the married Lily Potter, and unable to watch the woman he loved suffer – he turned the Longbottoms in. 

The Light side fought back, of course, but it wasn’t enough. Dumbledore had been the remaining advantage but he was killed two years after the Longbottoms. 

The wizarding world changed for good after that. 

All magical folk were drafted into the village of Hogsmeade, no matter their blood status. Muggle-borns were tested and monitored, and a select number were permitted to stay in the magical community, though their magic was tracked and limited to public service spells. Lily Potter was one of the lucky ones – most others were ‘removed’ to Azkaban and never heard from again. 

Hogsmeade was turned into a city, filled with tiny houses cramped together on narrow streets. Those who lived in the city were not allowed to leave and had to abide by strict rules. Wearing robes of the correct colour was mandatory – Muggle-borns wore brown, half-bloods with one magical parent wore dark green, while half-bloods with two magical parents wore light green. Pure-bloods that refused the Dark Mark were known as blood traitors, and were forced to wear robes of grey. The higher the blood status, the better the job prospects were in the city. 

Those who took the Dark Mark were moved to large houses on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, and were allowed freedom to travel the country. The Death Eaters wore white robes and gold trimming was reserved for those in the Inner Circle. The Inner Circle had the best opportunities – they lived in mansions on the grounds of Hogwarts, and the children were taught by Voldemort himself at the castle, while the children in Hogsmeade were taught at an overcrowded school. 

Hogsmeade wasn’t a pleasant place to live, but the community spirit was strong. The inhabitants made the most of what they had, and looked after one another. 

James and Lily Potter made sure to give the best life they could to their son Harry, who knew no other life. 

But Harry always had a way of finding trouble. 

***

“Padfoot! Quit it!” Harry groaned, turning his face into the pillow to prevent it being licked by the large black dog. 

Padfoot – an Animagus – barked loudly before morphing into his human form. 

“Your mum says it’s time to get up,” Sirius stated, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “First day of school; you’ll get to see Hermione again.” 

“I don’t fancy Hermione, Sirius,” Harry said, turning around so he could fix his godfather with a serious glare. Hermione was one of Harry’s best friends, and was one of the few Muggle-borns to be allowed into Hogsmeade. She was only allowed to take certain classes, and in return for being allowed magic, she had to work as a cleaner in the school. “I really think Ron’s going to ask her out this term.” Ron was Harry’s other best friend. He was a pure-blood but a blood traitor, and came from one of the loveliest families that Harry knew; the mother Molly worked as the school cook, and always snuck in extra portions for the students when she could. 

Sirius laughed. “How many times has Ron said that now?” 

“Leave him alone,” Harry protested, grinning. “He’ll get round to it eventually. Is Mum making bacon?” 

Sirius nodded, smiling widely, and Harry believed that was a big enough incentive to get out of bed. 

“I’ll let you in the bathroom first,” Sirius said, folding his legs beneath him so that Harry had enough room to move. “Don’t want you getting in trouble for being late now, do we?” 

Harry laughed, and grabbed his school uniform before heading to the bathroom to get ready. 

By the time he got downstairs, everyone but Sirius was already eating in the tiny kitchen. Harry lived with his parents, Sirius, and his unofficial ‘uncles’ Remus and Peter. The six of them lived in a cramped house, gifted to them by the Dark Lord. Despite its small size, it was very homely, and always decorated with bright and colourful flowers. Lily had taken up gardening because it was a hobby that didn’t need magic. 

“Ready for your first day back?” his mother asked, smiling sweetly at him. 

Harry nodded, a fork already half way to his mouth. 

“It’s hard to believe it’s your final year already,” James commented from behind the newspaper he was reading. 

“Yes, and this time next year I’ll be busy at whatever low paying and menial job a half-blood can get,” Harry said dryly. Each blood status had different limitations – the purer the blood, the better the prospects. No matter how well Harry did at school, the best he could get was a low ranking job in the city council, but most half-bloods ended up in the retail and service sector. It wasn’t that they were bad jobs per se, but it was annoying that Harry was limited simply because of his blood status. 

“If they ever set up an official Quidditch team where the players get paid, you should definitely go for that,” his dad suggested, lowering his paper to smile at Harry fondly. “I’m sure even Voldemort would see that you’re a damn fine Quidditch player.” 

“James – language!” Lily reprimanded. Remus and Peter snorted at James’s affronted expression. 

“Sorry I won’t say the ‘V’ word again,” James said seriously, winking at the others around the table. Lily just looked at him pointedly. “Did you not read the posters that said we live in the city filled with filthy and uncultured Muggle-borns and blood traitors? I’m sure Harry’s heard way worse than the word ‘damn’ at school. You have heard worse, haven’t you, Son? I won’t pretend I’m not disappointed if you haven’t.” 

“Of course I fucking have,” Harry retorted, with a perfect mask of nonchalance. 

James laughed loudly while Lily exclaimed Harry’s name in shock. 

“Quit laughing, James!” she growled, turning on her husband. “I knew I should have kicked you and Sirius out and raised Harry with Remus.” 

The conversation carried on much the same way. Most of his parents’ arguments were light-hearted and teasing – they were just those sorts of people, and it worked for their relationship. Ron and Hermione – who weren’t dating, but might as well be – were very similar. 

Harry had dated in the past, but nothing serious. His longest relationship had been with Ginny Weasley, and that had only lasted a few months because it felt awkward to them doing anything beyond holding hands. Sometimes he wished he had a relationship like the one his parents had, or the one Ron and Hermione could have; he wanted someone to not just be his partner, but to be his best friend, and most importantly, someone that would make his life exciting. 

One thing Harry didn’t know was that sometimes people find things in the place they’d last expect. 

***

Drawing his dad’s invisibility cloak around himself, Harry stealthily tiptoed across the living room. He slid the window up and clambered through the small space before shutting the window behind him – the window was a bit trickier to get out of, but it was much quieter than using the front door. 

The night air was cool on Harry’s skin, and he shivered beneath the cloak. He hurried over to the shed and slowly opened the door, cringing when it creaked slightly. He then grabbed his broom and shrank it down so he could hide it beneath the cloak, before making his way to the main street. 

The streets were almost pitch black, with the only light source coming from dull lanterns placed every so often on the walls of houses. Although there was no curfew, most people tended to stay inside at night. Death Eaters were known to come into Hogsmeade when it was dark and - apart from killing - they were free to do what they wanted to anyone they came across. 

Most people didn’t have invisibility cloaks though. Harry enjoyed being out alone at night; he was careful not to get caught, and it made a nice change to have open space. Harry’s usual hangouts were either in the caves of the nearby mountains, or the Hogsmeade end of the Forbidden Forest. The forest led to Hogwarts’ grounds, but it was most likely impossible to get all the way through without being attacked by one of the many dangerous creatures that lived amongst the trees. Of course, people would be able to Apparate to the other side if they wanted, but Harry had only heard other people in the area on two occasions. 

Nobody even dared to live near the forest and so Harry found it was one of the best places for him to do some flying. Since the creatures didn’t tend to live on the outskirts of the forest, Harry never ran into any trouble. He had happened upon a Centaur once, but it had simply talked about the stars, and given him a subtle warning that he needed to leave the area. Harry had later heard voices amongst the trees, but thankfully he had listened to the Centaur and had already been on his way home. 

Still, the forest was quiet tonight, so Harry pulled the invisibility cloak off and spelled his broom back to regular size. He tossed his cloak over the broom handle, and held on to it tightly as he swung his leg over the broom and kicked off. 

A rush of adrenaline coursed through him as he sped through the air. The wind was cold and stung his skin, but Harry craved that feeling. He steered his broom through the trees, making sharp turns just because he could; his dad said that he had natural talent when it came to flying. 

He came to a sudden stop mid-air when a loud crack echoed through the trees, and his head snapped around in the direction the noise had come from. 

Of course, he couldn’t see anything properly through the darkness, but he could hear voices. 

As he wasn’t too high up above the ground, Harry quickly jumped from his broom and pulled the invisibility cloak around himself. He threw his broom behind a tree and flattened himself against the trunk, just as the figures started to come into view. 

There were three of them, and they looked to be about Harry’s age. There was a hard-faced witch, whose dark hair was cut into a sharp bob, and she was clinging onto the arm of a tall black boy, whose height looked like it would rival Ron’s. The third figure was the one who had caught Harry’s attention the most. He was tall – though he didn’t look it when contrasted with his friend – and had blond hair styled neatly so not a single strand was out of place. From what Harry could make out of his face through the darkness, the bloke was gorgeous, but revealing himself for the sake of a good looking guy wouldn’t have been a smart move. 

On the other hand, revealing himself for reasons of self-defence would be a lot more understandable, and the way the blond was looking strangely at the tree that Harry was leaning against made it seem like self-defence would soon become necessary. 

All three of the strangers had broomsticks strapped to their backs, and wore white robes with a golden trim – not just children of Death Eaters, but children of those in Voldemort’s inner circle. 

The blond was staying silent, so Harry wondered if he was just being paranoid. The other two hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary, and were instead looking around the forest with distaste. 

“What kind of plant only grows under the light of a new moon?” the girl complained, letting out a huff. “They should make Mudbloods do this kind of dirty work.” 

“You should suggest that to the Dark Lord,” the tall one replied, and Harry could hear the smirk on his lips. “I’m sure he’d be happy to hear your opinions.” 

“Yes – well…” the witch muttered, placing her hand on her hip. “Why don’t you get digging then, Blaise? Seeing as you don’t seem to have a problem with this kind of work.” 

“I’m not doing commoner’s work, Pansy,” her companion retorted. “And as you are the poorest out of the three of us it would make you the commoner in this situation.” 

“Quiet; both of you,” the blond hissed, turning to face his friends at last. “You two are useless – why don’t you just go back to the castle and I’ll collect what we need?” 

“A bit of gardening won’t be enough to make the Dark Lord choose you as his next apprentice, Draco,” Blaise stated, eyeing Draco darkly. “But if you want to play peasant for the night, be my guest.” 

Blaise and Pansy Disapparated, and Harry wished that those in the city hadn’t been banned from learning how to Apparate. 

Draco pulled his wand out, and Harry quickly grabbed his own from his pocket. But rather than hexing him, Draco simply cast a spell at the ground which resulted in several plants being uprooted. 

Just as Harry let out a sigh of relief, Draco span around and a small wall of fire started racing towards Harry. 

Harry did the only thing he could think of – he jumped to the side and out of the way – but in his hurry, he stumbled over the cloak and fell to the floor, resulting in his legs and one arm being exposed. 

“You ought to learn to hide your broom better,” Draco said casually as he bent down and pulled the cloak completely off Harry. “I must apologise; all that talk about commoners and peasants must have really offended you.” 

“Piss off,” Harry muttered, clambering to his feet. Up close, he realised that Draco couldn’t be more than an inch taller than him, and they were roughly the same size, so at least they looked to be matched physically. Draco was clearly better at magic – Harry hadn’t missed the non-verbal spell –but Harry was quick, and knew how to punch if he needed to. “It’s not off-limits to be here.” 

“I know,” Draco smirked, taking a step closer to Harry. “But bad things can happen to _your_ sort when you’re alone at night. What’s your name?” 

Draco took another step forward, trapping Harry between himself and a tree. Harry felt his face heat up, despite the cold chill, and took a deep breath before he answered. 

“I’m Harry Potter,” he answered truthfully. All Hogsmeade residents had been given individual trackers that were attached to everything they owned, so Draco would have been able to find out if Harry was lying very easily. 

This was also the reason why Harry didn’t see the point in hexing Draco now, because then he’d be in even more trouble, and Merlin, Draco had nice eyes. They were grey, piercing, and just like Sirius’s, Harry realised. In fact, Draco even had the high cheekbones that Sirius had. 

“Potter, hmm?” Draco repeated, and a cruel smile crossed his lips. Harry wished he could kiss them, but maybe only if he could punch the arrogant git afterwards. “I’m Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa. These names should be familiar to you, yes?” 

The similarities to Sirius suddenly made sense now. Sirius’s cousin was Narcissa Malfoy, which would make Draco Sirius’s second cousin. Narcissa Malfoy also happened to employ Harry’s mother as her personal maid. 

“Oh, you do know, don’t you,” Draco stated – it wasn’t a question. “From what I hear, your mother dotes on you. I’m sure she’d be horrified to hear that you’ve been coming here alone at night.” 

It didn’t take more than a second for Harry to realise what Draco was getting at. 

“So what do you want?” Harry asked and rolled his eyes at the smug smile he got as an answer. Holding back a grin, Harry very casually said “so a blowjob, then? Want me on my knees so you can pretend I’m a girl? That’s how most guys like it.” 

Harry, of course, had never sucked a bloke off for any reason, but Draco didn’t know that. And his reaction was so worth it – Draco actually took a step back, and a look of horror crossed over his face. 

“What?!” he exclaimed, clearly alarmed. “No, I’m not homo-, I mean, my duty is to marry a pure-blood woman and produce worthy heirs.” 

“Your sexuality doesn’t give a shit about your duty,” Harry pointed out, rather satisfied that he had finally got the upper hand. 

“I’m not gay,” Draco said quickly, coughing as though he realised that his voice was higher than he’d anticipated. 

“Me neither,” Harry retorted with a shrug. “I’m bi; I like men _and_ women. If I was pure-blood, I could have a worthy heir and still enjoy getting my dick sucked.” 

“What? No, that wasn’t what I meant; I-” Draco spluttered, before taking a deep breath to regain control. “Father always said that the city was full of degenerates. What I _was_ going to say, was that I wanted to challenge you to a flying contest.” 

“Oh.” Harry would have felt guilty, had he not just been called a degenerate. 

“Yes, I’m a very talented flier,” Draco continued, lifting his chin as he bragged. “But as I live in a small community, I never get much of a challenge. I doubt you’ll beat me, but it’s always good to test my reflexes against the unknown.” 

“I don’t think it will be much of an equal match though,” Harry replied, pulling a mock thoughtful expression. “You have the best broom money can buy, and I have to fly around on a twigs tied together with string. 

He grinned, and Draco rolled his eyes. 

“I should have taken you up on that blowjob offer; at least you’d shut up then.” 

Harry’s grin didn’t lessen. 

“So what do I get if I _do_ win then?” Harry enquired, looking down at the invisibility cloak still in Draco’s hands. 

“I won’t tell your mother that you’ve been out, and you can have your cloak back,” Draco answered. “But when _I_ win, I’ll be keeping your cloak, your broom, and I’ll tell your mother if I feel like it. Agreed?” 

“Agreed,” Harry nodded. “What are the rules?” 

Draco looked around at the ground until he found a pebble, and cast an animation spell on it. “First to catch it wins.” 

Of course, Draco had his broom off his back and was in the air before Harry could even blink. He rushed for his own broom and kicked off as quickly as he could. 

The adrenaline pumping through his veins was even more intense now that he was flying with someone else. It was different to the junior Quidditch team that he played in – he was actually flying for something worthwhile, and with somebody that he _really_ wanted to beat. 

Draco was a good flier - that much was evident - but Harry was better. Harry wasn’t afraid to jump over a branch and trust that he’d land back on his broom. Harry wasn’t afraid to hang onto his brooms with just his legs. 

And it was that daring that helped Harry win. 

Draco glared darkly when he saw the pebble in Harry’s hand. 

“I felt sorry for you,” Draco muttered, but then he smiled darkly at Harry. “Meet me again tomorrow night if you want a real challenge, and then I’ll give you your cloak back.” 

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Draco had Accio-ed his plants and Disapparated before Harry could, the git. 

Still, Harry didn’t particularly feel annoyed at having to come back. 

He could put Draco in his place yet again, and more importantly, he wanted to see Draco smile once more. 

***

Naturally, Draco didn’t give Harry back the cloak the next time they met. Harry still beat Draco, even when Draco grabbed the back of his broom and knocked him off course. 

Almost every night, Harry and Draco would meet up at the edge of the forest to play Quidditch. Draco promised that he would bring the cloak back eventually, but Harry believed that keeping the cloak was just a reason to get Harry to come back. Sometimes they didn’t even play – they just took a slow flight through the trees while they chatted. 

Draco was cocky and arrogant, and very much a snob, but there was something about him that drew Harry to him. Draco could also be quite witty, and he was into the same sort of stuff that Harry was, like Quidditch and music by the Weird Sisters. There just seemed to be a spark between them – a fire, in fact – because between Draco’s attitude and Harry’s tendency to run his mouth, they were never bored. 

Strange as it was to believe, a friendship of sorts seemed to be forming between them. It had been two weeks since they’d first met, and they weren’t tired of one another yet. Harry had nothing to lose, but for a pure-blood, being friends or even acquaintances with a half-blood could get Draco labelled a blood traitor. 

“I can’t be out late tonight,” Harry told Draco, who was already annoyed that Harry tried to call off their meeting earlier. Draco had just insisted that Harry needed to come earlier instead, and Harry had agreed without any reluctance. 

The only reason for his need to be home was because it was a full moon that night. 

Remus was a werewolf, and had to be locked in a cage in the basement overnight. Harry’s dad, Sirius, and Peter were Animagi, and spent the night with Remus in their animal forms. Lily and Harry, however, had to stay out of the house for their own safety. 

Sirius’s cousin Andromeda, who also happened to be Draco’s aunt, took Harry and his mother in every full moon. Her daughter Nymphadora – but known as Dora – was a few years older than Harry, but one of his best friends. Her dad was a Muggle-born, and was shunned from wizarding society. Sirius had taken his place, and Harry and Dora had grown up like brother and sister. 

“Yes, yes; I know. ‘ _Family stuff_ ’,” Draco quoted mockingly. “I didn’t think your kind bothered with traditions.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You keep saying ‘my kind’, but we’re really not that different from you, Draco,” Harry retorted. “Your blood might be purer in magic, but when we both bleed it looks the same.” 

Harry couldn’t honestly say that he was offended by the way Draco spoke. Draco had simply been raised that way, and didn’t know the reality of living in the city. 

“If we get caught together we’ll probably just find out how true that is,” Draco said warningly. 

“And yet you keep coming back to me,” Harry countered, and Draco gave him a small smile. 

“I’m just doing charity,” Draco stated with a casual wave of his hand. They both hopped on their brooms and set off on a steady flight. “Got to make you Hogsmeade residents feel good about yourselves by letting you win flying games.” 

“I didn’t realise that improving the self-esteem of teenage half-bloods was part of the Dark Lord’s policy.” Harry grinned, while Draco just looked alarmed. 

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Draco said is a hushed whisper. His eyes darted from side to side, as if he expected Voldemort to jump out from behind a tree. “He has eyes and ears everywhere; trust me.” 

“Is that your way of telling me you’re a spy?” Harry teased, arching an eyebrow – a gesture he had learnt from Draco. 

Draco shook his head, but he was looking at Harry seriously. Unfortunately, Harry wasn’t the sort of person who could read expressions, so he was completely lost as to what Draco was getting at. If he was warning Harry that there were spies in the city, he didn’t need to – everyone in Hogsmeade already knew that. 

The topic changed to the latest song by Celestina Warbeck; neither Harry nor Draco liked her, but their mothers were big fans. 

They continued to fly mindlessly through the trees, and it was only once they were back out to the clearing that Harry realised the sun was close to setting. 

“Shit,” he muttered, and quickly hopped off his broom. Even if he didn’t have to worry about getting home late, if he was still out in the open by the time the moon rose, he had a risk of being attacked by one of the rogue werewolves. “You need to be getting going, as well; it’s a full moon tonight.” 

“Of course; I forgot about that. Shit.” Draco glanced up at the sky, which seemed to be getting darker by the minute. “I’ll Apparate you back.” 

Harry’s stomach fluttered and he tried to ignore the sudden nervousness that had overcome him. 

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” Harry said, wincing at how high pitched his voice sounded. Merlin, there was him thinking that it was risky enough being friends with Draco, and now Harry realised he wanted much more than friendship. 

It was only a crush, and Harry knew that nothing would be allowed to come of his feelings anyway. It was better to just ride them out. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Draco snapped. “I don’t offer help unless I actually want to help.” 

Draco _wanted_ to help him, and Harry was sure that Draco must have been able to hear his pounding heart. 

“My back garden is quite private,” Harry suggested; his voice quiet. “My family won’t be around.” No, they’d be preparing for the full moon now. He gave Draco the address, describing to him what the street and the garden looked like. 

“Perfect.” Draco smiled – all dazzling white teeth – and offered his arm. Harry stared for a moment, and then linked his arm with Draco’s. 

For a split second, Harry revelled in the warmth of Draco’s body, and how _right_ it felt to touch him. Then Draco Apparated. 

What a horrible feeling it was! Harry felt like his body had been roughly compressed and forced through a tube far too small for him. It was over soon enough, but he was left with a faint sense of nausea, and the ground felt unsteady beneath his face. Apparition may have been a useful skill to learn, but now he didn’t mind the fact that it was banned so much. 

“Thank you,” Harry said, after his world stopped spinning. “Useful skill to know – Apparition, I mean.” 

“It is,” Draco agreed. He seemed somewhat dazed, and Harry presumed that Apparating made Draco feel uncomfortable too. 

“Draco?” Harry queried, tilting his head as he examined the blond. 

Draco seemed to be lost in thoughts; he was staring at Harry, but also staring through him. His fingers were twitching, like they were desperate to move, and his pupils were wide. 

Harry leant in closer to Draco. Was he ill? 

And suddenly Draco’s hands were on Harry’s arms, and his lips were pressing insistently against Harry’s. 

It was sweet, and perfect, and so short-lived, for Draco pulled away before Harry could fully comprehend what had happened. 

“Meet me tomorrow at the Shrieking Shack,” Draco murmured against Harry’s lips. “It’s on the outskirts of the old village.” 

And then he was gone. 

Harry didn’t move for a few minutes. He stood still, ignoring the cold and running a finger across his lips. He could still taste Draco, and could still vividly imagine those lovely seconds when he had Draco kissing him. 

He wondered why Draco would want to kiss a half-blood, especially a male one. Draco had hinted enough that he was attracted to men, but was committed to his duty of marrying a woman and producing heirs, but as Harry was neither female nor pure-blood, he had nothing to offer him. 

Perhaps Draco just wanted a teenage romance; something that would give them chance to experiment and satisfy their urges, and then when adulthood hit, their relationship would fizzle out and fade away. 

Or maybe Draco had been delirious from Apparating. 

Harry was drawn out of his musings when his mother called out to him. 

“Harry? Where have you been?” Lily called, hurrying towards him. 

“I was out with a friend,” Harry answered, trying not to look guilty as his mum eyed him suspiciously. 

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” Lily said firmly, and Harry knew she would keep to her word. “You were supposed to be home an hour ago; Andromeda’s already been on the Floo wondering where we are.” 

Harry received another warning look, and he knew he would be in trouble the following morning, but he was still too dazed to feel worried about it. It wasn’t like it was his first kiss, and it had only been a chaste thing, but it had just felt _special_. 

Merlin, he had it bad. 

Andromeda lived just around the corner from Harry’s house, so they made it there quickly. Dora had made them dinner and throughout the meal she stared at Harry with a knowing smirk on her face. 

After they ate, Dora announced that she would go and wash the dishes, asking if anyone would mind helping her, and looked pointedly at Harry. 

Accepting the hint, Harry got up and followed his friend out of the dining room. 

It really was a shame that Dora couldn’t have become an Auror. She had dreamt about it for years, but her status as a half-blood barred her from applying. She ending up working as a barmaid, but she still put her natural investigative skills to good use. 

“So, who is it?” Dora asked, grinning widely at Harry. “You’ve looked out of it all night, so you’re either in love, or abusing potions.” 

“I’m not _in love_ ,” Harry protested with a shudder – having a crush on an Inner Circle pure-blood was one thing, but being in love with one would be far worse. “I just have a little thing for someone; nothing big.” 

Dora’s grin got even wider. 

“Who is it?” she asked excitedly, clapping her hands together. “Oh, I know – that pretty redhead. Susan Bones, isn’t it?” 

“No, it’s not her, but I’m not going to tell you who it is,” Harry said seriously. Dora was clumsy – both physically and verbally. “You’re terrible at keeping secrets; you’ll have told someone who I fancy by this time tomorrow.” 

“I will not!” Dora crossed her arms, and her hair turned a dark red colour. “When have I ever done that?” 

“Cho Chang, Cedric Diggory, Ginny Weasley,” Harry listed, counting the names on his fingers. “Every one of them found out I had a crush on them because of you.” 

“They were accidents,” Dora said, holding up her hands defensively. “I didn’t realise that Cho and Cedric didn’t know, and me and Charlie were very drunk when I let that slip about Ginny. But don’t you think that means I learnt from my mistakes?” 

“Not at all,” Harry replied, shaking his head firmly. “And I wouldn’t tell you even if I _did_ trust you to keep a secret. Nothing’s going to come of it; it would never work, even if we wanted it to.” 

Dora pouted mockingly. “You’re seventeen, love; don’t be so serious and take a chance.” 

The pair of them exchanged a look at those words and broke into a matching grin – they had realised long ago that when the word ‘serious’ was used around Sirius, an awful pun was sure to follow. 

“Maybe,” Harry lied, simply so he could make Dora feel appreciated. “Still not telling you who it is though.” 

***

The Shrieking Shack was at the edge of Hogsmeade, right next to where the original village used to be. When Voldemort won the war, he built the new city to replace the mostly demolished Hogsmeade that had been the only all-magic town in Britain. Nobody lived in the old part anymore, and nobody had a reason to visit. 

Even if they did, they wouldn’t dare go to the Shrieking Shack. Rumours said that it was haunted by angry spirits, but Harry’s family had told him the truth about how Remus had spent the full moons there while he had been a student at Hogwarts. 

Without his invisibility cloak, Harry had to be careful while he walked the streets, and so he was late arriving. Draco was already there when Harry finally got there, seated on the dusty couch in the sitting room. He looked Harry up and down when he entered, and gestured for Harry to take a seat next to him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Harry said as he settled into the seat beside Draco. “I had to be careful to avoid any patrolling Death Eaters that might be around. Imagine how useful having an invisibility cloak would be.” 

“I will give it back to you eventually.” Draco turned his head to face Harry, and fixed him with an amused look. “I actually wanted to apologise to you; I shouldn’t have kissed you out of the blue like that.” 

“No, you’re alright,” Harry answered with a small smile. “I enjoyed it.” That wasn’t entirely the truth – Harry had spent far too long worrying about the implications of the kiss, but the kiss itself had been enjoyable. “I’m sorry if you’re sorry because _you_ didn’t enjoy it.” 

Draco stared blankly at him for a moment. “No, I liked it, but I still shouldn’t have done it. You’re too…”

“Half-blood?” Harry supplied, and he must have looked annoyed because Draco shook his head and held up his hands in protest. 

“No!” Draco dropped his hands and rested them on his thighs. Harry could see his fingers clenching. “I mean, you are, but that’s not _my_ problem. My problem is that my family and friends have a problem with you being both half-blood and male. They’d hurt you for that, you know, and Merlin knows what they’d do to me. Do your parents accept that you’re – you know – _bisexual_?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah; they’re fine with it. When you live in a city where you’re constantly limited and face the risk of abuse just because of your blood status, you realise that prejudices just aren’t worth it.” 

“See, the people in my community aren’t like that,” Draco said bitterly, and Harry felt a strange urge to rest his hand on top of Draco’s. He followed his instinct, and his companion simply smiled at the small gesture. Draco took a deep breath before he continued, and his face had gone an unhealthy pale colour. “I could have survived liking both men and women, but I just don’t find women attractive. I’ve kissed girls, but it was nothing like kissing you, and the thought of touching women just makes me feel ill. But the main goal of the Death Eater community is to preserve blood purity, and me being gay contradicts that completely. I know you’re probably thinking I’m too rich and important to have anything to worry about, but I’m going to have to live my life hiding away a big part of me.” 

“I don’t think that at all,” Harry answered honestly. Though Harry had suspected that Draco was gay, it was the first time Draco had actually come out and said it, and it was obvious that it had been difficult for him. Harry had always imagined that the Death Eaters would have it easy; living in big mansions and being able to go anywhere and do anything they wanted without question, but as he had said previously, Voldemort had been proof that prejudices only made the world worse. He knew far too well the feeling of being trapped and forced into a role that other people wanted them to play. “I wish there was something I could do to help you, I really do.” 

“You already have,” Draco answered, turning his hand upwards so he could link his fingers through Harry’s. “I took a chance on you for selfish reasons; maybe you’re my act of rebellion.” 

“I can live with that; I always was an anarchist at heart.” 

They stared at each other for a few moments – Draco really did have lovely eyes – and then they were kissing again, sweet and comforting, and oh so tender. 

“I know my duty, and I know I have to fulfil it,” Draco said as he pulled away, threading his fingers through Harry’s hair to pull his head closer. “But I want to spend this time with you now while I can.” 

Was it stupid? Being with somebody in secret, who would eventually leave him because of his pure-blood duty? Probably, but Harry didn’t care about stupid. 

He kissed Draco again, and this time their kiss deepened, more passionate and intense than before. Harry’s free arm moved to hug Draco’s body, while Draco tugged on his hair and pulled Harry on top of him. 

They spent the night kissing, learning each other’s bodies through their clothes, and when the first signs of morning filtered through the windows, they departed with promises of the next night. 

It was so very dangerous, but Harry really didn’t care. 

***

Now, rather than playing Quidditch in the forest, Harry and Draco would meet at the Shrieking Shack. Sometimes they would fly around in the small garden out the back, until one of them would tackle the other and then they’d kiss in the dirt. Other times, they would kiss and cuddle on the sofa or the bed inside the house. Once they made out - fully clothed – under freezing cold water in the shower. 

They knew it was reckless and dangerous, and that Draco could lose everything, but their relationship was passionate and thrilling, and everything that Harry had wanted. He knew that one day it would have to end, but that only meant he made sure that every moment they had together counted. 

There were only two options that would enable their relationship to continue. First of all, Harry could turn Dark, but he absolutely refused to do that; Draco going Light was also out of the question, because Harry couldn’t allow anyone give up a mostly good life to live in the city. Another option was for Harry to become Draco’s servant. Draco would still have to marry and produce an heir, but him sleeping with a servant behind his wife’s back would be far less risky than sneaking out to the Shrieking Shack every night; parents were easy enough to get round, but wives would be much more likely to notice an empty bed. 

They were currently laying on the rickety bed, with Draco on top of Harry. 

“Did you hear something just then?” Draco mumbled against Harry’s mouth, drawing him out of his thoughts. 

“What? No, it was probably just the wind,” Harry replied, realising after he said it that the night was relatively still. But the Shrieking Shack was creaky in general, and Harry hadn’t heard anything. 

Draco nodded, and resumed kissing Harry, sliding his hands underneath Harry’s shirt. Draco’s hands were warm and Harry arched upwards responsively. Draco chuckled, and trailed his fingers up to Harry’s nipples and pinched them lightly. 

Harry moaned in response, but as his hands moved to Draco’s belt buckle, the very noticeable sound of the door creaking open caught his attention. 

Heart beating heavily in his chest, Harry turned towards the noise, which caused his heart to almost stop beating altogether. 

It took only a split second for the black dog to jump, morphing as it did so, and then Draco was pulled harshly off Harry. 

“Shit, Harry; what are you doing?” Sirius exclaimed, grabbing Harry’s arm to pull him from the bed. 

“Leave me alone, Sirius,” Harry growled, while Draco looked between the pair of them in alarm. “I’m not a kid anymore; I can do what I want.” 

“People like _him_ are dangerous,” Sirius snarled, though his anger was directed more at Draco. The white and gold robes that were hanging off the back of a chair suddenly seemed more pronounced. “Don’t let me see you with Harry again!” 

Despite Harry’s struggling, Sirius was stronger, and he easily dragged Harry away from the room. He had enough time to mouth ‘sorry’ at Draco, and it was only when they had left the Shrieking Shack that Sirius finally loosened his grip. 

“Sirius, I was fine!” Harry hissed, crossing his arms angrily. “Draco’s fine; he won’t hurt me.” 

“Draco isn’t just one person, is he?” Sirius retorted bitterly, casting a glance back at the Shack. “I’m sorry, Harry, but this is for your own good; nothing good could come from that relationship.” 

“I knew that,” Harry muttered, flinching away when Sirius tried to put his hand on his shoulder. “How did you find me anyway?” 

“Dora,” Sirius told him, and Harry’s irritation only grew; even without a name, Dora had given away his secret. “Don’t look like that, Harry; she was worried about you. Your mum was telling Andromeda about all this sneaking around and lying that you’ve been doing lately, and Dora told us you had a crush on somebody unsuitable.” 

“So you followed me?” Harry fixed his godfather with a pointed look. “Don’t you trust me?” 

“Of course I do, so do not try and make me feel guilty about this.” Sirius stopped walking, and Harry reluctantly copied. “All of us are just looking out for you. 

“So you’ve said,” Harry stated dryly. “I’m of age, Sirius; all of you need to stop treating me like a child.” 

“Whether you like it or not, you’re still a child to us, Harry,” Sirius said, and he actually looked sad – Sirius _never_ looked sad. “When I was only a year older than you, I was fighting a war. But I still remember how things were before that; how we had freedom and safety. You’ve grown up in this world so you don’t know any better – you don’t know what the Death Eaters really did to get the world to be like this. You know they can hurt you, but you don’t know just how much. Even if this boy wouldn’t hurt you, there are people close to him who would do horrific things to you because of your blood status. I’ve _seen_ what Death Eaters can do, and it isn’t just a hex or a beating like you’d expect, and I’m not going to apologise for trying to protect you from that.” 

That time when Sirius pulled Harry into a hug, he didn’t protest. 

“I just really like Draco, Sirius,” Harry mumbled into Sirius’s robes, holding his godfather tightly. 

“I know,” Sirius whispered. “I’m sorry we didn’t fight hard enough for you.” 

***

Harry woke with a start when he heard a tapping at his window. 

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he pushed himself out of bed and crossed his room to the window. 

He rubbed his eyes, certain that he must be hallucinating, because why else would Draco be in his garden? But Draco was definitely there, gesturing for Harry to come outside. 

Dressing quickly, Harry clambered out of his window, lowering himself as far as he could before dropping down. He scraped his hands as he landed, but otherwise managed to avoid injury. 

“I’m sure you could have used your front door, you-” Draco commented, but the rest of his words were cut off as Harry kissed him. 

Someone coming to Harry’s house in the dead of night to get him to sneak out was definitely romantic _and_ exciting. 

“Draco? Why are you here?” Harry asked, as Draco grabbed his hand and Apparated them to the Shrieking Shack. 

“Your godfather isn’t enough to scare me,” Draco scoffed, leading Harry up the creaky stairs. “I was planning to ask if he had scared you, but that was before I saw you jump out of a window.” 

“It wasn’t _that_ high.” Harry grinned, and his smile only grew as Draco pushed him against the wall and kissed him deeply. 

“What he did make me think, though,” Draco said as he pulled away, “is that we really do need to make the most of our time together.” 

Draco then dipped his head, kissing his way down Harry’s neck. Harry felt himself harden at the intimate gesture, and he moaned when Draco bit down on his collar bone. 

“Have you ever, _you know_ , been with anyone before?” Draco shook his head. “Me neither.” 

“I mean, I know _how_ ,” Draco said confidently, and Harry nodded in agreement. “So if you want to, we can.” 

“I want to,” Harry replied quickly, while his heart pounded away in his chest. Harry couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so nervous; he had fantasised about sleeping with Draco for a long time. “So do you want to top, or shall I do it, or what?” 

“I’m not sure,” Draco answered as they made their way to the bedroom. “If you’re up for it, maybe we could do it twice and switch?” Harry nodded, suddenly feeling a bit terrified. What if he hurt Draco? What if Draco hurt him? Could a cock really fit inside him? And what was even the technique to fucking someone? 

“Can I top first?” Draco asked, and Harry felt a surge of relief wash over him; at least now he could learn from Draco. “And then you can tell me if it hurts. I mean, I don’t want to hurt you, but if we get the preparation wrong I have the feeling you’ll be able to handle it better.” Harry was glad to know that Draco was having the same anxieties as him, but despite those anxieties, Harry really wanted to go all the way with Draco. Handjobs and blowjobs, while great, felt a world away from actual cock-up-the-arse type sex. 

“Did you bring anything we can use for lubricant?” Draco’s response was to bring a vial out of his robe pockets. “Expecting something were you?” 

“Hoping,” Draco corrected with a smug smile. 

They set about undressing each other, which resulted in buttons flying off clothing and materials ripping as they tore the clothes off one another in desperate need. It was only once they were both nude that Harry felt uncomfortable about his body. 

Draco was slender but he also had lightly formed muscles and flawless skin. Harry, on the other hand, was – like most people in the city – on the skinny side. His hip bones jutted out, and his skin was covered in scars and scratches that had accumulated over the years from most of his daredevil stunts – he had jumped from higher things than a window. 

But Draco didn’t look disgusted. In fact, he looked visibly aroused, licking his lips hungrily as he looked Harry up and down. Draco’s cock was rock hard, already leaking pre-come. 

Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s, who responded with desperate passion. Harry slid his tongue into Draco’s mouth while Draco pressed him backwards until he fell on the bed. With a bit of readjustment, their bodies pressed against each other perfectly. 

Detaching his lips from Harry’s, Draco sat up slightly so he could open the vial. He poured a generous amount onto his fingers, before moving them down Harry’s body. 

“Alright?” Draco asked, and Harry nodded. 

Draco watched Harry’s face as he pushed a single finger inside of him. It didn’t hurt, but it was a strange feeling – not bad; just strange. 

“Go on,” Harry encouraged, and Draco added a second finger, pushing them deeper inside of him. 

Harry could feel himself stretching slightly as he tried to relax his body. Draco’s fingers moved inside him, sticky from the lubricant, and when they hit his prostate, Harry moaned loudly. Draco smirked and hit that spot again, sending waves of pleasure through Harry’s body. 

Pulling his fingers out to coat them with more lube, Draco pushed them back inside Harry, and started to add a third. 

“Is another one okay?” Draco enquired – his eyes were still watching Harry’s face carefully – and he made sure to hit Harry’s prostate again. “It doesn’t hurt?” 

“I’m fine, Draco,” Harry insisted, even as he bit down on his lip when the third finger slowly joined the others. The stretch and the burn was more noticeable now, but Harry looked up into Draco’s eyes, and the love he saw in them helped Harry to relax. Meanwhile, Draco was working Harry’s prostate, which was sending his body into a frenzy. 

“Fuck me now, Draco,” he said, and Draco’s fingers stilled inside him. “I want to come with you fucking me.” 

Harry was ready, and he had never wanted anything else more. 

Draco nodded and pulled his fingers out of Harry. He poured some more lube onto his fingers so he could coat his cock, and then he shifted so he was between Harry’s legs. 

Harry wrapped his legs around Draco, bringing their bodies even closer together, and a surge of nervous adrenaline coursed through Harry when he felt Draco’s cock at his hole. 

Draco slowly started to press his cock forward, and despite the thorough preparation, Harry couldn’t hold back the hiss of pain as he was stretched open. 

Draco paused, but Harry urged him onwards. “Go on; it’s fine.” 

Draco started moving once more, going slowly until his cock was fully inside of Harry. 

It was an odd feeling; even with the fingers beforehand, Harry felt so full, but it was a lovely feeling, despite the pain, and Harry told Draco so. 

With that as encouragement, Draco started to move. He thrust slowly in and out of Harry, and the burning pain started to ebb away while the pleasure built. Draco angled himself to find Harry’s prostate, and when he did, Harry arched his back and shouted Draco’s name. 

As Draco’s confidence grew, his fucking got harder, and Harry was ashamed to say that he didn’t last very long at all. However, he was left deliriously happy after his orgasm, and Draco came only moments later, moaning into Harry’s shoulder as he collapsed on top of him. 

They were both slick with sweat and panting, but they didn’t move or speak for a long time. 

Harry spent his night wondering how something so forbidden could make him feel happier than he had in a long time. 

***

Harry woke early the next morning, but Draco had already left. 

They had fallen asleep after the first round of sex, but were ready for another go after they woke up a couple of hours later. That time Harry had topped, and he could still remember how wonderful Draco had felt around his cock. Both times had been perfect in different ways, and he couldn’t wait to explore more positions. 

Draco left Harry a note explaining that he needed to be home before his parents woke up. He hadn’t woken Harry up because apparently he had looked too adorable – nice to know that sex hadn’t made Draco any less of a git. 

Harry quickly made his way home, hoping that because the sky was only just starting to lighten, his parents might not be awake. 

Of course, he had no such luck. 

It wasn’t just his parents who were waiting for him, but Sirius, Remus, and Peter, too. Remus and Peter hadn’t known about Draco before, but it looked like they had been filled in now. 

“Where have you been?” Lily asked coldly. Harry hated it when she did that; he’d preferred if she’d just shouted. 

“Out,” Harry answered simply, wincing inwardly as he realised that his cheek would get him into even more trouble. “I’m sorry; I’m tired. Can I just go to bed, please?” 

“You were with that boy, weren’t you?” James queried, and Harry didn’t see the point in lying. He nodded, and Sirius hung his head. 

“Harry, listen to me,” his mother said firmly, taking hold of Harry’s hand and squeezing it lightly. “This can only end badly. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth; he’s a Death Eater, and you’re a half-blood. I know you don’t care much about your own safety, but think about Draco. Imagine if Voldemort found out that the son of one of the Inner Circle members was spending his time with you; that could be a death sentence for him.” 

Harry’s blood ran cold. “Surely he wouldn’t _kill_ him for it, would he? Wouldn’t he just be called a blood traitor or removed?” 

Remus coughed loudly. 

“Harry, don’t believe all that the textbooks tell you,” he said, giving Harry a sad smile. “Yes, they say that those who are removed go to Azkaban, but if they’re not dead before they reach the island, they’ll be dead not long afterwards. But yes, if he’s part of the Inner Circle, it might be more likely that Draco would be granted exclusion from his community as his punishment, but Voldemort does what he wants. If he wanted to make an example of Draco, he might publically execute him.” 

“Worst case scenario,” James added quickly. He had probably realised that Harry hadn’t yet blinked. “None of us personally have a problem with you dating whoever you want to, but Draco’s people do, and that’s who we’re protecting you against. The more you meet him, the more likely you are to be caught.” 

“I told you, Harry,” Sirius agreed. “Voldemort has given you the idea that he’s cruel but merciful - that man wouldn’t know mercy if he tried. If you live life in Hogsmeade like you’re meant to, without questioning anything, you can live pretending that that’s true, but you need to know now that Voldemort isn’t a distant threat – he is right here next to us, and our lives are in his hands.” 

“Okay,” Harry said, feeling his heart shatter into pieces. “I understand.” 

And he did. 

***

Harry’s parents had allowed him to have the day off school, and he spent the day moping in his room. 

He had known that life hadn’t always been so difficult for non-pure-bloods, and he had known that those who lived in Hogsmeade were treated unfairly and limited both in magic and freedom. He had known that Death Eaters were to be feared, and that it was unsafe to be alone at night. But what Harry hadn’t known was that he had underestimated Voldemort for all of his life. 

Naturally, his family had hidden the worst of Voldemort’s crimes from him in order to protect his innocence and youth, while at school they had been taught by textbooks – Voldemort approved – that painted Voldemort as a visionary, and said that anyone who wasn’t pure-blood received what they deserved. Even though Harry and his professors had disagreed, they were taught to be grateful for being allowed life. 

He and Draco had known that they couldn’t be together publicly, and Harry knew that Draco especially could have been in a lot of trouble had they been found out, but he hadn’t imagined that Draco could be killed for it. Yes, it was the worst case scenario, but it was a possibility that terrified him. 

Harry was planning on meeting Draco one final time so he could tell him in person that it was over – Draco deserved that – but Draco’s note came before Harry could send him one. 

So with heavy regret in his heart, Harry snuck out of the house for what he guessed would be the last time. 

He really didn’t want to leave Draco, but if there was a chance that Draco could be killed – no matter how small – it was a chance Harry refused to take. 

He made his way into the Shrieking Shack, but Draco hadn’t arrived yet. 

A door from the side creaked open, but when Harry turned to look, it wasn’t Draco. 

A woman with dark, curly hair and cruel eyes smiled at him darkly, her wand brandished in front of her. 

He pulled his own wand out, but a Disarming spell hit him from the side, sending his wand flying. 

Harry span around, and a man who had to be Draco’s father smirked at him. He was very similar to Draco in looks, but taller and his hair was longer. 

“So here’s Draco’s little whore,” the woman sang, circling Harry. He felt like he was being stalked by a bird of prey, and without his wand, he was almost entirely defenceless. Even if he tried to physically attack one of the strangers, the other would curse him before he had a chance to do much damage. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry said calmly, struggling to hide his panic. 

“That’s what Draco said, too,” the man stated, aiming his wand up and down Harry’s body until it settled at his chest. “He was quite adamant we were wrong, but we trust our source.” 

“Besides, Draco daren’t lie to his Aunt Bellatrix,” the woman added, giggling. 

“We are here to make sure you never see Draco again,” the man continued. His eyes darkened, which only made Harry feel even more trapped. Merlin, he was going to die in this house and his parents would think that he had ignored their advice. “For Draco’s sake, we’re not going to inform the Dark Lord about his _activities_ , and for the same reason, we won’t kill you because that will raise too many questions.” 

Harry felt a surge of relief, but it was short lived. 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun though,” the woman said with a cackle. “ _Crucio_!” 

It was like a thousand burning knives stabbing him all at once. Harry had never known pain like it – his whole body felt like it was on fire and his bones were melting. He collapsed to his knees on the floor, screaming in agony, but the spell was lifted and with it went the pain. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Bellatrix,” the man warned. “He’s only a child – he’ll break easily, and we don’t want that.” 

“Such a spoilsport, Lucius,” Bellatrix hummed, pouting. “Fine, you play first.” 

Lucius smiled cruelly, and cast the same spell that Bellatrix had done previously. 

Harry screamed again, clutching his hands to his head. His body was trembling violently, and it felt like his eyes were bleeding. As soon as Lucius finished the spell, Bellatrix put him straight back under again. 

Bellatrix’s spell hurt even worse – he could almost feel her hatred coursing through his bones. Harry could feel tears streaming down his face, and his fingernails had dug through his skin. He tried biting down on his lips to stop from screaming, but he only succeeded in tearing through his lip. 

He barely noticed when the spell was lifted; his body was still in agony, and his skin felt like it had been torn apart. 

Lucius strode up to him and kicked him in the side, but he could hardly register the pain from it. 

“See Draco again and we’ll do much worse,” Lucius hissed, spitting at him before stalking away. 

Bellatrix bent down to kiss Harry’s forehead tenderly, before she too strode away cackling. 

Harry stayed in the same position for a long time while the sky got darker and darker outside the window. But who could Harry blame but himself? He had been warned more than once, but he hadn’t listened. 

Harry eventually forced himself to get to his feet, and he shakily walked out of the Shack and back to the city. Every footstep sent a fresh wave of pain through his already aching body, but he pressed onwards, ignoring the concerned looks from the people in the streets. 

He heard someone shouting his name, but he paid it no heed until a hand touched his shoulder. Although the touch wasn’t hard, he groaned at the pain it caused, and a gentle arm wrapped around his shoulder and started to guide him. 

“Merlin, Harry,” Dora exclaimed. She was still in her work uniform, and it looked like she had come running from the pub that was just on the left side of the street. “What happened? Are you okay? Of course you’re not, what am I saying? Come on, love, let’s get you home.” 

Harry let Dora guide him, leaning back into her arm for support. 

“James? Lily?” Dora shouted as she pushed open the front door to Harry’s house; his parents were there in an instant. 

“God! Sirius, Remus; get down here,” Lily exclaimed, rushing over to Harry. 

“Cruciatus curse?” James asked, his voice strangled, and Harry nodded, wincing when the movement caused fresh pain. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry croaked, allowing Dora and Lily to usher him into a seat. “I should have listened to you.” 

“No, sweetheart; it’s not your fault,” his mum soothed, as his dad appeared with a vial of potion in his hands. 

“Pain reliever,” James explained, helping Harry to drink it. “Give it a couple of minutes and it should start working. I’m sorry – there’s nothing else we can do for it.” 

“S’alright,” Harry muttered, leaning into Dora’s shoulder. 

“He was stumbling through the streets,” Dora explained to his family. “Someone ran ahead to the pub to let me know.” 

“Who was it?” Sirius asked Harry sharply. When Harry looked at him, he looked murderous. 

“Draco’s father and aunt, I think,” Harry answered, because he really didn’t care if Sirius did go out and murder them, provided he could get away with it. 

Sirius’s fingers clenched, and even Dora tensed up. 

“Bellatrix?” Remus asked for confirmation, and Harry nodded. 

The pain was starting to ebb away, but there was still a faint thrumming of agony beneath his skin. 

“I only went because I thought it was Draco,” Harry said; he felt the need to explain his side of things. “I wanted to talk to him in person, and let him know why we had to end it. Draco didn’t tell on me though – his father said Draco denied it, but they caught him out.” 

He noticed James and Sirius exchange a glance, but Remus sent him a reassuring smile. 

“Draco sounds like a nice boy,” he said. “I’m sorry about his family.” 

“He’s not that nice,” Harry answered with a small laugh. “He has his moments, but he’s also a bit of a prat. I’m going to miss him.” 

***

The following night, Harry was on his way to the pub. 

Dora had spoken to her boss about giving Harry a part-time job, with the opportunity for a full-time job after he finished school. His parents agreed that it would be a good idea, and Harry was happy to do anything to get his mind off Draco. 

He hadn’t even dared to write Draco a note, in fear of his father or aunt discovering it. It sounded like Draco had been given one more chance to be perfect pure-blood, and Harry wasn’t going to ruin that for him. 

As he walked up a quiet street, an invisible force pushed him down an alleyway. Harry’s fists flew up to push the assailant away, and he was met with a familiar sounding hiss. 

“Quit it!” Draco growled, yanking Harry’s invisibility cloak off him. “I’ve come to get you.” 

Harry’s happiness at seeing Draco again died away in a flash. 

“Come to get me? Why?” he questioned, looking at Draco suspiciously. 

“I heard what my aunt and father did. I’m sorry that they did that to you; are you still hurt?” Harry shook his head. “Good, well, I realised nothing like that can happen again, so we need to leave – maybe go abroad somewhere. I can Apparate us-”

“I don’t have the Dark Mark; I can only go so far until the Wards stop me,” Harry cut in. The Wards circled the city and stopped anyone without a Dark Mark from leaving by magical means. 

Harry didn’t even know why he was pointing out the flaws in the plan; as much as he wanted to, Harry wouldn’t be able to leave with Draco. 

“Fine,” Draco sighed. “I’ll take us as far as the Wards. We’ll be under your cloak, so we can stun the guards without them seeing us and raising the alarm. Then we can go through, and if you set off the sirens it won’t matter because as soon as we’re past the boundary I can Apparate us anywhere we want to go.” 

“Draco, it’s a brilliant plan – truly – but I can’t leave, I’m sorry,” Harry stated sadly, taking hold of Draco’s hand. “My family is here; I can’t just leave without them, and if we get hunted down, that will be a death sentence for the both of us.” 

“Nobody will find us, and I’m sure your family would just be happy that you’re free,” Draco tried, but Harry shook his head. 

“Couldn’t they come with us? They know how to Apparate, so if we’re quick stunning the guards at the Wards they’ll-”

“Peter Pettigrew is a spy!” Draco declared, looking horrified after his exclamation. 

Harry stared. “What? Peter – a spy? You’re lying.” 

“I’m not,” Draco said seriously, and Harry knew by the look in his eyes that Draco was telling the truth. “Who do you think told my father about us? How do you think the Death Eaters knew that there were Muggle goods being distributed in the city a few years ago? The Dark Lord needs inside men, and you’ve had one of them living inside your house.” 

Harry felt his heart sink; not his Uncle Peter. Peter – who had always been funny and had a sympathetic ear – was a spy. It made so much sense; Sirius had been punished a few years ago for producing anti-Voldemort posters - and those posters had never made it out of the house. 

“I’m sorry, Harry, but this is why we have to go – just the two of us. Peter would tell, and we-”

“Hem hem,” a voice sounded, causing Harry and Draco both to freeze. A woman clothed in a pink dress underneath white robes was standing at the end of the alleyway, with a black sash across her chest – a guard. “What do we have here?” 

***

Draco had had just enough time to stash the invisibility cloak under his robes before the woman marched up to them and Portkeyed them to Voldemort’s lair. 

It was in Hogwarts castle, and Harry had often stared at it in the distance, wishing he could see what it was like. Now he was there, however, he didn’t want to know. 

The guard had told them that they were under arrest for ‘unlawful soliciting’, and took them straight to Voldemort. 

Harry’s first look at Voldemort told him that the stories about him were far too kind. His skin was white as snow, and his eyes were red like blood, with narrow slits for pupils. His nose was completely flat, and he had not a single strand of hair on his head. Voldemort’s nails were long and sharp, and Harry was sure that his skin had a scaly sheen to it – all in all, Voldemort looked like a monster. 

The worst part was, Voldemort was smiling at them. It wasn’t a nice smile, but one that promised bad things to come in the near future. 

“Umbridge tells me that you were both arrested for unlawful soliciting,” Voldemort said, and even his voice was terrifying; it was calm but with a biting tone that made Harry and Draco know that Voldemort was in charge. 

“I’m not a prostitute,” Harry said quickly. “If that’s what she meant; I-”

“Silence!” Voldemort hissed, holding up a hand, and Harry instantly fell silent. “No, no; I don’t believe you are.” 

Voldemort rose from his chair, and strode towards them. Clothed in black robes, he looked like an angel of death. 

“You two are in love,” Voldemort commented – it wasn’t a question. Draco shook his head violently, but his lips were pressed firmly closed. “I thought you would know better than to lie to me, Draco.” Voldemort looked closely at Harry, who felt a strange tugging feeling in his head. “Ah, yes; I can see in his mind what you are. Love is for fools, so what does that make you?” 

Draco hung his head, but Voldemort paid him no heed; he seemed more interested in Harry. 

A pale fingertip brushed the hair away from Harry’s forehead, and trailed down his face until it rested on his cheek. Harry tried not to shiver at the icy touch, but he was finding it harder and harder to resist. 

“Strange,” Voldemort commented, digging in his nail to scratch Harry’s cheek. It stung, and when Voldemort pulled his finger away it was stained with blood. “You share many similarities with my younger self.” Harry really tried not to retch at that. “I wonder if it was fate that I chose to let you live, child of the Prophecy.” 

Harry glanced at Draco, but he looked equally as confused as Harry felt. But Voldemort didn’t look like he was going to explain himself any time soon. 

“Draco, you are the only one here who has committed a crime,” Voldemort continued. Draco visibly tensed, but he stayed silent, not even daring to look up. “Choosing to spend time with a half-blood is against our values, and you should know the penalty.” 

“I talked him into it,” Harry said quickly. He was vaguely aware of Draco’s warning look, but he was too preoccupied by the furious look Voldemort sent him. 

Taking the hint, Harry shut up and lowered his gaze, just like Draco had been doing, and that seemed to please Voldemort. 

“Now Draco, as you are a child of one of my most esteemed members of the Inner Circle, I am giving you a choice,” Voldemort stated, and Draco nodded to show he was listening. “Either you accept your banishment to Hogsmeade as a blood traitor, which means being disinherited from the Malfoy name, or you can prove your loyalty to me by casting the Cruciatus on your lover. Whatever you choose, know this - if you cross me again you will face certain death.” 

“Curse me, Draco,” Harry said, spreading his arms wide to give Draco a bigger target. “Don’t give up your freedom for me.” 

Draco raised his wand, and Harry braced himself ready for the pain, but it never came. 

Instead, Draco dropped his wand to the floor and rolled up his sleeve to reveal his Dark Mark. 

“I am a fool, my Lord, and I have made my choice,” Draco stated confidentially. 

“Such a pity, Draco,” Voldemort sighed. “You would have made a fine replacement for your father one day.” 

Voldemort pulled his wand from the sleeve of his robe, and pointed the tip on Draco’s arm. 

Draco screamed as a dark green light set his lower arm aglow, sinking into his skin. The Dark Mark vanished with the light, and in its place the skin was an angry red; Harry didn’t think it would ever fade. 

But Draco had made his choice, and he had chosen Harry. Draco was so very stupid, and Harry had never been happier. 

***

“You shouldn’t have done it,” Harry told Draco, as they walked hand-in-hand through the streets of Hogsmeade. “I couldn’t give my family up for you, but you got yourself completely disinherited by yours.” 

“If you hadn’t noticed, my family aren’t very kind,” Draco pointed out. “Your godfather followed you because he thought you were in danger; my father tortured you because of your blood. Don’t you think that says enough?” 

“But-”

“I chose you, Harry,” Draco stated, squeezing his fingers tightly. “I thought that it was about time you got something nice.” He smirked, and Harry rolled his eyes. 

“But now you won’t get anything nice,” Harry said. “Sometimes there isn’t enough food to go around, and our houses are tiny.” 

“Yes, I will miss the feasts,” Draco nodded as if he though deeply. “But I’ll be able to kiss you, _and_ fuck you whenever I want now.” 

Harry laughed loudly, giving Draco a playful shove. “My godfather’s already pulled you off me once; don’t think he won’t do it again.” 

They stopped outside the front door to Harry’s house, and looked at each other before stepping in. 

To say his family were surprised to see Draco would be putting it lightly. 

“Draco renounced Voldemort,” Harry explained, making sure to glare at Peter as he did so. After he got Draco sorted, Harry was going to make sure that Peter got what was coming to him. “He doesn’t have anywhere to stay.” 

James and Lily exchanged a glace, and then looked back at Harry. 

“We don’t have much room,” Lily said uncertainly. 

“We’ll have an opening soon,” Harry retorted with a smile. Peter actually squeaked. 

“We have a werewolf in the house, and we’re not afraid to use him,” James stated, jerking his head towards Remus who scowled. James’s face then broke into a grin, and he offered Draco his hand, who shook it after a brief moment of shock. “You’re alright, kid. I mean, your family put Harry through hell and back, but _you’re_ alright.” 

And the truth was, in time, they would be alright. 

***

**Author's Note:**

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